


Myiasis

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Body Horror, Breeding, Monster Rape, Non-Human Genitalia, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Jill Valentine has a horrific encounter with one of Umbrella's many biological horrors.
Relationships: Chimera/Jill Valentine
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45
Collections: Teratophilia Trade 2020





	Myiasis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



Jill kicked her legs in thin air as she struggled to keep the clawed limbs away from her throat. Limbs—too many limbs, waved in her peripheral vision and scratched at her back—one ending in a human hand, another in just a hooklike claw. All of them reaching for her, or snared into her—one was caught in her gunbelt, another latched onto the shotgun she had slung over her shoulder.

Something _wet_ ran down her back, and she elbowed _something_ in with her left arm as she struggled to hold the clawed hand at bay with her right. This was an insane wrestling match with a weird insect _thing_ hanging upside-down from the ceiling, and she was losing.

She let out a pained hiss as the claw hit her outer thigh, the thing pulling her up higher. She cut up her elbow against something sharp as she hit the thing’s body again—finding a jagged edge of _something_ where she hoped there’d be something soft and vulnerable. The normal-ish hand looped around her belly.

As they grappled she was turned to face the thing, getting little more than a glance at the thing’s bulbous abdomen. The claws dug into her back—not deep, but enough to make her bleed and keep her still. Looking down, she saw the whites of the things wide, unblinking eyes—a nice target if her handgun hadn’t clattered to the ground when the thing had dragged her up. She couldn’t unsling her shotgun, or reach it with her knife.

She looked to either side, then up. The thing was a mishmash of fly and person—it’s upper legs were _somewhat_ human-looking, albeit with stiff, bristly hairs growing out of patches of armor, but past the knee they were spindly and ended in tiny clawed feet.

She had no idea why the monster seemed content to hold her, drooling on her upper thigh now, but she needed to break free. Her left arm was pinned in it’s grasp, but she had enough freedom of movement with her right to reach up, feel it’s leg. She found a particularly soft patch, and slowly she pulled the knife from her belt.

It _screamed_ when she plunged the blade into it’s leg, which began a series of involuntary kicks; its other limbs flailed as they swung on the one leg still rooted to the ceiling.

And then they fell.

They hit the concrete floor in a disorganized heap. Jill had seconds to get her bearings before a flailing limb nicked her arm. She kicked and thrashed and disentangled herself from the flailing mass of limbs, finally getting a good look at the thing.

She wished she hadn’t.

It was half-skeleton, half-bug. Fly, maybe, from the useless-looking, stubby beginnings of wings growing from the thing’s back, next to a pair of legs. It whipped it’s head around and shrieked, lower jaw dangling about a half-foot from the upper when it did so.

She struggled to her feet as it sprang up. She unslung the shotgun, but it was on her before she could fire, sending it flying from her hand. She managed to deflect a swing of it’s clawed arm, when a hand grabbed her right wrist. Another limb hooked around her left knee, another aound her waist. The thing drew its face close to hers as she struggled, and a dozen pink, writhing things issued forth.

Then it pulled with some of it’s limbs and shoved with others and the two of them careened to the floor. Jill’s head hit concrete. The world spun off-axis as it pressed it’s maw against her face, the dozen writhing tongues or feelers or whatever prodding at her lips, lapping at a cut on her cheek it must’ve given her. All the while she was aware the things other limbs were moving, nicking at her as they dug into her clothes.

Nicking her, not slicing through her, which they easily could’ve done. The thing wasn’t trying to kill her, but it was trying to disrobe her. It took way too long for that thought to solidify, and for Jill to reactively struggle against the thing as it shredded ripped holes in her shirt and tore open her pants at the fly, then continued to shred away the inseam.

The thing then stood up; grabbing a hold of her legs. Jill kicked and flopped on the ground, not breaking it’s grasp as the world spun and she banged her shoulder into a wall and they came to a stop in a heap. Jill was pinned; shoulders on the ground, nearly folded into the shape of a “C”, legs over her head. The fly thing stood over her, drool dripping on her face as it chittered. She tried squirming out from underneath, pausing when something else dripped don her leg. Something had emerged from the end of the thing’s abdomen.

A stinger?

No, the pale length of tissue had a blunt end. An odd, acrid smell, almost like vinegar, hit her nose as the creature’s abdomen moved to line the organ at the end of it up with her crotch. Jill had _no_ idea how insects mated, beyond the usual facts. Mantis females ate the males. Spider females at the males. Flies? She didn’t know, didn’t exactly care. Half-skeleton-half-fly monsters? She had a sinking feeling she was about to find out.

She kicked and struggled as it pressed against her twat; she rocked side to side, tried to buck it off. It just pushed down on her with more of its weight, grappled her with its extra limbs, and soon she could barely manage to move at all. She wasn’t wet when it shoved in. It was fucking *dripping* slime, which made it’s entry easier.

Physically.

Getting raped by a slimy monster organ was not ‘easy’ just because it came lubricated. The thing continued to drool on her, and it’s abdomen moved up and down, pistoning inside her forcefully, but it did not otherwise move. White eye shown in a dumb stare at her face, long, bristly hairs dug into the exposed parts of her legs when it slammed into her, but it didn’t shriek or howl, just held her still as it fucked her.

It was _cold_ when it first shoved in, but she was beginning to feel _hot_. Spreading, first from the parts of her thigh where whatever it had dripping from it’s cock landed, but after what seemed like an eternity, inside of her, against the thing’s cock as well. It spread out from there, sick heat running up her veins to her heart, then back to all the rest of her.

She was disgusted by the whole thing, the feeling of the monster mechanically slamming into her, the smell of the thing, the wetly rhythmic slapping of flesh and whatever that thing was made of, the fact that sweat was running down her brow and back. Her breath hitched in her throat as it kept fucking her, and her teeth chattered.

There was no variation. No dirty talk, except when she muttered an expletive laden death threat that ended in a whine. The thing just kept thrusting, while Jill was cramping up in the unnatural position she’d been forced into and the cuts it had throbbed painfully as it jammed itself inside. All the while, she felt blood pumping in her face and a sick burn.

It lasted long. At least as far as she could tell. Disgust, discomfort, pain boredom, and whatever chemical assisted pleasure it was providing was she was building towards an inevitable orgasm.

It was _intense_.

She screamed when she reached the tipping point, thrashed hard in the thing’s grasp with limbs that had long since gone rubbery; bucked and tensed and relaxed and tensed. She whined and moaned and hated herself for it, or would’ve had she not been rendered insensate to everything except the insane explosion of pleasure that hit her.

When she caught her breath, she immediately noted _something_ had changed. When she tried to break free, she failed, but incoherent flailing mid coitus must’ve upset the thing’s balance, or convinced it she was pliant, or whatever the fuck. Why didn’t matter, what did is it had shifted it’s grasp, to her legs, reared back a little, so not all of it’s weight was on her.

Hands free, she looked around the room, taking stock of where everything was for the first time. Her shotgun was within arm’s reach. It wouldn’t have mattered, had it kept it’s grip on her wrists, but now…

The thing was, still mechanically, dumbly fucking her. It didn’t react much when she reached—she moved slowly, carefully minimizing the changes of position she required. Her right arm was numb, fingers on pins and needles when she managed to hook the sling.

It’s head shifted as the shotgun scrapped against concrete, but did not otherwise move. The CHA-CHUK of the shotgun being pumped made it tighten it’s grip, claws piercing new holes in her skin.

Even when twelve-gauge buckshot erased everything above its head with an echoing boom, it continued to hold and fuck her—Jill just stared up at the thing as something thick and dark dripped from what was left of its head and it didn’t seem to care.

It wasn’t until a new thrill of pleasure hit her that she shot the thing a few more times.

Eventually she dislodged it, and it fell backwards, mostly intact lower half still thrusting into her. Jill stayed in the room for a long time afterwards, removing insect arms that kept a deathgrip on her legs, doing her best to patch herself up and return feeling to her lower body. It was maybe five minutes before she could make a shaky circuit of the room, giving the still twitching carcass a wide berth.

After an eternity, she was about ready to leave the room. Covered in blood, whaever that thing had that passed for blood, sweat, drool and whatever else, she reached for the door handle, until she doubled over, with an all-to-familiar, sick burning inside of her.

Something _squirmed_.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by news that the Drain Deimos in the remake of _3_ with have an absolutely awful status affect, and an interesting piece of fanart by Kingsway.


End file.
